


Begging for More

by iam93percentstardust



Series: Tumblr Prompts [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Collars, Consensual Somnophilia, Lingerie, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sex Work, Sex Worker Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: Tony doesn't know why he's been brought all the way to Paris if there's only going to be one bed in the room. One bed means sex; so why Paris?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr Prompts [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817254
Comments: 21
Kudos: 347
Collections: StarkBucksBingo2020





	Begging for More

**Author's Note:**

> ad1thi submitted:
> 
> buckytony NSFW AU where Tony is an escort for hire and Bucky’s an extremely rich man who’s looking for some company. loosely a Pretty Woman AU but instead of picking Tony up off the street, he hires Tony off his exclusive website (whether or not you want to factor in the public appearances aspect of the film is up to you but i was thinking more of a strictly sexual relationship that develops over time) (sort of like a sugar daddy AU)
> 
> Title: Begging for More  
> Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914820  
> Square Filled: O4 - Only One Bed  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron  
> Rating: E  
> Major Tags & Triggers: Sex work; explicit sexual content  
> Word Count: 4.3k

There’s only one bed in the room when Tony gets inside. He pauses, looking warily at the bed like it’s going to attack him. It’s nice, huge, possibly bigger than the entire bedroom in Tony’s last apartment. He bets it has expensive sheets, the kind that are always slippery and you’re afraid to get messy on them. Bucky always pays for rooms with expensive sheets. Yeah, it’s not that there’s really a problem with the bed per se; it’s just that—

Well, one bed means sex.

One bed means sex and two means Bucky needs an escort to whatever event he’s attending and when Bucky had offered to fly him all the way out to fucking Paris for the weekend, he’d just kind of assumed that this was supposed to be an event like a conference or something.

He glances down at his suitcase. He prepares for everything of course, so when he’d logged in to the agency’s website a few days ago to see that his weekend had been blocked, he had made sure to grab not just a couple suits but also some of his best lingerie and Bucky’s favorite toys. Security must have had a field day when they scanned his luggage at the airport. He chuckles, imagining the priceless looks on their faces, and gets to work.

The bathroom is his first stop. Tony is already shaved and waxed, just the way his clients prefer, on the offset chance that Bucky would already be in the room by the time he arrived even though he’d already been told that Bucky wouldn’t be there until dinner, but he smells like airplane and stale peanuts and possibly a little bit like the old man sitting next to him in first class who had drunk his weight in liquor by the time the plane landed.

The bathtub is large enough for at least five people to comfortably sit and the tap has a temperature setting that he sets to just barely on the too much side of hot. He pours in a little lavender oil and wanders back out into the bedroom while he waits for the bath to fill.

Suits go hanging up in the closet. Lingerie goes in one drawer and toys go in the one below it, organized by type and then by color. He doesn’t have anything casual other than loungewear because Bucky’s never once taken him anywhere casual and usually he takes him to places that will provide a suit if you don’t show up wearing one.

He goes back into the bathroom, cleans himself up, spends a little bit extra time in the bath relaxing—even if Bucky pays him well enough to afford a new, nicer apartment and first class plane tickets, he still doesn’t make enough to afford a bathtub like this—and climbs out before he gets pruney.

Tony has a couple clients that prefer to see him completely dolled up—makeup, matching lingerie sets, all of it. Bucky, on the other hand, prefers something a little simpler so after he’s dry, Tony pulls on ice blue lace panties, a pair of sheer stockings—no garter, as per Bucky’s instructions so he’ll need to be sure to smooth them out before Bucky arrives—and a small black leather collar. He’ll never admit it but the collar is his favorite part. Bucky, in a fit of possessiveness, had bought it for him after finding out that Tony’s other collars had all been used before by his other clients.

Tony still remembers the first time Bucky had put it on him, the way he’d slid a finger under the collar to check how tight it was, how his eyes had gone dark and wanting before he purred, “Now you look like you’re _mine_ ,” and used his grip on the collar to tug Tony into a demanding kiss.

He shivers, thinking about it, and runs a thoughtful finger around the edge of the collar. There have been…times throughout the months they’ve been doing this where he’s wondered if Bucky would want to make this a more permanent arrangement, not quite a kept boy but something rather more intimate. Of course, he’d still need to make a living somehow since Howard has made sure he’s not allowed to use the Stark name but…he wouldn’t exactly _object_ to being Bucky’s more often than once a month.

His watch—another gift from Bucky—beeps at him from where he’s laid it on the dresser and he checks it. Still another few hours to go before Bucky will be back but he should probably get a move on.

He places an order for room service for later that night, calls up for an expensive bottle of champagne that he knows Bucky likes though he can’t stand the taste himself. While he waits, he puts on a pale pink robe and stretches out across the giant bed to doze off the little bit of jet lag he has, which has the added benefit of mussing the sheets just enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

There’s a knock on the door, waking him from his nap, and he greets the astonished delivery boy, who can’t take his eyes off of him, with a cheeky wink and a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of his ass peeking out from the hem of the robe as he turns away.

The champagne goes in an ice bucket to chill and Tony checks the time again before deciding to change into his loungewear. He knows that Bucky likes the silk robe but he likes watching Tony strip for him more and besides, they’ve got all weekend for the robe. There’s only one bed in the room; he’ll be lucky if Bucky lets him up from it at all, let alone into actual clothes.

There’s still an hour or so before Bucky comes and he thinks about going out on the balcony but it looks like there might be a storm coming in. He scowls and drags a chair over to the balcony doors, deciding that he can at least look out over the city, even if he can’t be outside. He reads for a bit until the storm arrives and it gets too dark to read by the natural light and then he gets up to turn on the lamps, which is of course when Bucky walks through the door.

Tony pauses by the bedside lamp, taking in Bucky’s wet hair and the way he’s shaking raindrops off his coat. “You could take a shower first,” he suggests.

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, dragging his gaze slowly over Tony’s body. It’s not even like he’s in anything sexy, just sweatpants and an oversized sweater and his stockinged feet but Bucky’s eyes go dark anyway. It’s gratifying that Bucky gets that choked expression on his face even when Tony is fully dressed and maybe that’s why he crosses the room instead of waiting for Bucky to come to him. Maybe that’s why he slides his hands up Bucky’s wet shirt to hook around his neck and bring him down for a kiss.

Bucky’s hands flutter at his side before he brings them to settle on Tony’s waist. “Don’t want to get you wet,” he mumbles into the kiss.

Tony licks kittenishly at the seam of his lips, teasing them open so he can slide his tongue inside. He curls his tongue around Bucky’s once before pulling back just enough to say, “Does it look like I care about that?”

“No,” Bucky admits and Tony smiles but then Bucky sets him a little bit apart from him. “But I don’t want to do it anyway. Let me get cleaned up, kitten, and we’ll see about dinner, yeah?”

Tony’s a little disappointed; he’d thought that kiss was building up to something, but he gamely smiles and says, “Sure thing, Bucky Babe.”

Bucky brushes another kiss over his forehead, tugs just enough at the collar to get Tony to gasp, and then ducks into the bathroom. Tony calls the concierge to bring up their dinner as he hears the shower turn on. He putters around the suite, making sure that the lighting is romantic, doublechecking that the balcony doors are closed, and pulling the champagne out of the ice bucket so it has time to warm up a little. By the time their meal has arrived, fragrant and steaming hot, Bucky is stepping out of the shower so Tony goes over to the bathroom to let him know their food is ready.

His gaze lingers on Bucky’s naked body, always incredible. Bucky takes care of himself and that shows in his muscular arms and toned stomach that always get Tony a little hot under the belt. Bucky is toweling off his hair when Tony opens the door and he grins at the mirror at the way Tony falters when he sees him.

“Something I can do for you, kitten?” he asks.

Tony shakes himself out of his reverie, pulling his eyes back to Bucky’s face. “Wanted to tell you food’s here.”

“What did you get for us this time?”

“Chicken and asparagus.”

“No steak?”

“I’m watching your health.”

Bucky drops the towel on the counter and stalks toward him, snagging him around the waist for a quick kiss before he continues on in to the bedroom. He tugs on a pair of sweatpants, much nicer than Tony’s own, but forgoes the shirt in favor of reaching for the bottle of champagne to pour it into two glasses.

Tony follows him and dishes up their plates as Bucky sets the glasses out, moving around him in a well-practiced dance they’ve done many times before. Tony is a good escort, he knows he is, and that means he knows what to do for each client, not that he’s had many since taking Bucky on. Hammer wants him smiling vapidly and singing his praises to anyone who’ll listen at one of his galas, Stone wants him wearing a plug the size of his fist before he even shows up at his penthouse, and Bucky wants him to take care of their food while he handles the drinks.

Dinner is a quick affair, filled with light, easy conversation about Bucky’s conference in Paris and how Tony’s flight had been. He doesn’t bother asking what Bucky’s expectations for the weekend are; Bucky will tell him eventually and—he glances toward the bedroom where he can see one of the bedposts on the bed—he already has a pretty good idea.

“So doll,” Bucky says eventually, putting his napkin down. Tony has already finished eating and has been taking small sips of champagne for the last ten minutes. “I was here for this conference and how I’ve got this incredible view that I don’t even get to look at that much and I was thinking about how nice it would be to share it with someone. And then I checked your website and wouldn’t you know it, you’re free this weekend.”

“So you hired me to stare at the view while you’re busy at a conference,” Tony deadpans.

Bucky throws him a fondly annoyed look, a feeling that Tony seems to inspire in a lot of people. “I hired you to stare at the view _with_ me because my conference ended today.”

Oh.

He thinks again about that possessive streak of Bucky’s, the way he just casually buys him things because he knew Tony would like them and “Why wouldn’t I want to spend the money on you, kitten?” _Maybe_ , he thinks to himself, _just maybe_.

“Well then,” he says lightly, trying to hide the way his chest feels hot at the very thought of Bucky making him his, “if you’re going to spend all that money just to fly me out here.”

“Worth every penny,” Bucky swears. His grey eyes are going dark again as they drop to the neckline of Tony’s sweater, his voice a low growl when he says, “Take it off for me.”

Tony shivers. So they’ve reached _that_ part of the night then. He stands, hands going for the hem of his sweater. He toys with the hem for a moment before slowly drawing it up his body and over his head, reaching back behind his neck to make sure that the fabric doesn’t catch on the buckle of his collar.

“That’s it, Tony, baby,” Bucky croons as Tony drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. “All of it.”

Tony keeps his gaze fixed on Bucky’s as he shimmies the pants down off his hips and to the floor, stepping out of them when they puddle around his feet. Bucky catches sight of the stockings and he groans lowly, making Tony bite back a smile. He’s never worn the stockings before but he had thought Bucky would like them. He seems to really like Tony in lacy things.

“Come here,” Bucky urges him, reaching for his hips. “Let me see you.”

And Tony goes. He stands in between Bucky’s spread legs, letting him run his hands up and down the stockings, the material catching on his legs and lighting up his sensitive skin. Bucky ducks his head to run his tongue along the line of Tony’s panties. He catches them between his teeth and tugs on them, pulling them away from Tony’s body just an inch.

“I like these. Did I buy them for you?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says breathily. He runs his hand through Bucky’s hair, marveling again at how soft it is. Bucky’s hair is like silk. He wants to spend all day running his fingers through it, see if he could make Bucky make that purring sound he sometimes makes when he’s content.

“Pretty color,” Bucky mutters and pulls the panties down over his hips enough that he can breathe warm air over Tony’s dick, which immediately perks up like it knows it’s going to get some attention (not that that’s a shock; he’s been half-hard since Bucky walked into the room). “Pretty cock. Pretty _Tony_.”

Tony moans at the compliment, sinking into Bucky’s lap when he’s tugged down and straddling him. “Bucky—please _kiss_ me.”

And Bucky does, hard and biting and demanding the way only he does. Tony’s had clients who like to kiss him before—not many but some—and not a single one of them has ever kissed him like _Bucky_ does. Bucky kisses him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and it’s the only thing he’ll ever _want_ to do, like he’s oxygen and Bucky is suffocating. He kisses him like—like he loves him, only Tony doesn’t let himself think about that too much.

And Bucky tells him sweet things in between kisses, tells him that he’s beautiful as Tony winds his hands in his hair, tells him that he’s the prettiest thing Bucky’s ever taken to his bed as he mouths wet kisses down Tony’s neck, tells him that he’s being so good for him as he puts his mouth over Tony’s nipple and _sucks_.

Tony shouts, hands tightening in Bucky’s hair, rocking his hips into Bucky’s. Bucky sucks again, mouth pulling hard on Tony’s chest, and then he _bites_ and Tony thinks he should be used to this but he doesn’t know how he could _ever_ get used to something like this.

“Being awfully loud there, kitten,” Bucky murmurs.

“Like you didn’t pay for the quietest room there is,” Tony quips back, brain still working even through the miracle that is Bucky’s finger twisting his other nipple.

Bucky scoffs dismissively and slides two of his fingers inside Tony’s mouth, shoving them to the back where he nearly gags on them before he gets with the program and sucks.

“That’s better,” Bucky says and Tony rolls his eyes because he knows that Bucky likes it when he talks. “Hey, no sass out of you.” He taps Tony’s lips sharply before driving his fingers in again. Tony flicks his tongue between Bucky’s fingers, twisting and curling around them to get them as wet as possible so that when Bucky finally removes them from his mouth, they’re practically dripping. He slips wet fingers inside Tony’s panties and parts his cheeks to slide a finger inside his hole, rolling the tip of his pointer finger around his rim as it loosens

Tony uses his grip on Bucky’s hair to direct him back to his mouth and he’s so glad that Bucky lets him because he knows that he’s not the strong one in this relationship. He knows that Bucky owns some kind of tech company but he has no idea what else Bucky does—because there must be something else for him to be so strong.

“Bucky,” he whispers into his mouth, trying to shift back further on Bucky’s finger and completely fails to do so.

“Shh, kitten,” Bucky says. “Let me make you feel good.”

And he raises Tony up on his knees just with the grip he has on Tony’s hip so he can slide his panties off. Tony raises one leg to slide it off but Bucky kisses him again before he can kick the panties off completely so they dangle from his ankle, a flag of his personal surrender. He reaches for something on the table that Tony hadn’t noticed before and when he comes back, his lube-wet fingers slide in slowly, two at a time because Bucky’s never gone the easy route if he can help it.

Tony groans, thrusting back on his fingers as they press into his prostate. Bucky just smiles and whispers into his ear, “Gripping me so tight, babe. Gonna feel so good on my cock.”

“I always feel good on your cock,” Tony snarks because he is a _gift_ and Bucky had better not forget that.

Bucky chuckles and drives his fingers in harder, shoving them into Tony’s body to make space for his cock. “That’s true. Hold onto me.”

Tony barely manages to grab his shoulders before Bucky lets go of his hips to dig into his pocket. He wants to watch, wants to know what Bucky’s looking for, but the fingers of his other hand are still curling in Tony’s body and he can’t help but close his eyes as his head drops back and he whines.

He hears a soft _clink_ and then the collar suddenly gets heavier. A leash. Bucky’s put a _leash_ on him. That’s—oh that’s _hot_.

Bucky yanks on the leash, pulling his head back to face him and pairing it with a vicious twist of his fingers in Tony’s hole, and Tony cries out again. “Bucky, please,” he begs. “Please fuck me, please, just—”

“I’ve gotcha,” Bucky says. He pulls his fingers out and sharply slaps Tony’s ass once. “Get up.”

Tony thinks about whining, thinks about asking why he has to get up when his legs feel so wobbly, he’s sure he’ll collapse if he tries to stand. Then Bucky slaps his ass again, harder this time, and he squeals before jumping up. He can’t go far. Bucky still has a grip on the leash, wrapped around his hand, and he uses it to make sure Tony goes only as far as he wants him. With one hand, Bucky slides his sweatpants down, just enough to lift his dick out.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. In his line of work, he doesn’t see many beautiful cocks but Bucky’s—Bucky’s is a work of _art_ : long and thick and a dark olive that flushes as he strokes it. There’s a drop of precum beading up from the tip of his cut cock that Tony wants to get his mouth on and lick up.

“Come here,” Bucky orders. Tony straddles him, Bucky’s right hand immediately going back to his hip like it belongs there, the leash rubbing against his oversensitive skin. His left hand strokes up and down his cock, lubing himself up, letting out tiny groans. Tony wants to turn around and watch but the blissed expression on Bucky’s face is almost as good. He leans up as best as he can to kiss the little furrow between Bucky’s brows and when he pulls away, Bucky is watching him with this wondrous, dazed look in his eyes.

“How are you real, kitten?” Bucky murmurs. It doesn’t sound like he’s expecting an answer so Tony just kisses him again as Bucky pulls his hand away from his cock to hold his cheeks open as he positions Tony.

He’s lowered slowly—oh so slowly—until Bucky’s thick cock is splitting him open. He keens, unable to toss his head back the way he wants because of Bucky’s grip on the leash, breaking off into a soft “ _Oh!”_ as he settles Tony in his lap, all of his cock tucked away inside Tony’s body. He always thinks that Bucky is too big for him, that this time he won’t fit, but no—Bucky is just as big as he needs to be, _Tony_ is just as _open_ as he needs to be but with his cheeks settled against Bucky’s thighs, mouth open and panting, Bucky feels bigger than ever.

His fat head is pressed against Tony’s prostate, dragging against the sensitive nerves, and Tony whimpers as every little move lights him up from the inside out. His cock is drooling against Bucky’s stomach, smearing wet against his toned abs.

“Feel good?” Bucky hisses into his ear. Tony nods desperately. He does, he feels _amazing_. “Cause you sure feel good around me, squeezing me so tight.”

He starts to drag Tony up and Tony cries out, clenching down in a futile attempt to keep Bucky inside him. Bucky moans and drops him again, slamming into his prostate.

“ _Bucky!”_

“If you don’t want me to drop you, you shouldn’t do things like that,” Bucky chuckles.

“If you don’t want me to do things like that,” Tony shoots back at him, “you shouldn’t try to pull out.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “No? What do you want me to do, kitten? Thought you wanted to be fucked.”

“You telling me you can’t figure out a way to fuck me like this?”

It’s a challenge, one that he knows Bucky will rise to. He always does. So he sits there, primly perched on his lap with Bucky’s cock hard as steel inside him as he waits for him to decide what to do. And when he thinks Bucky has almost figured it out, he squirms, just a little, as much as he can with the leash still gripping him tight.

“So that’s what you want, is it,” Bucky murmurs, eyes lighting up. His hand slides around to the small of Tony’s back, pressing him down as he grinds up. “Not a thrust but—” His hips twist and his cock jerks and Tony moans. “Yeah, that’s it, baby.”

He does it again and again and Tony swears he can feel Bucky’s cock in his fucking _throat_ , he’s so deep inside him. Bucky croons to him, soft words about how good Tony looks writhing on his cock, challenging him to come untouched. Tony thinks he could do it; he’s never managed it before but he wants so badly to be perfect for Bucky that he thinks he can do it this time. Heat is coiling in the base of his stomach, winding him tighter like a coiled spring.

“Bucky,” he gasps. “Bucky— _oh_ —please.”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t even know.

“Just— _ah_ —please!”

And Bucky smirks at him, that filthy, devil-may-care smirk that promises bad things for Tony’s future, before bending Tony back over his arm. His cock presses in new ways inside him and he wails—and that’s when Bucky fits his teeth around Tony’s nipple and _pulls_ —and Tony comes screaming, cock pulsing as he shoots white ropes up Bucky’s chest.

Bucky jerks him upright then, grinds into him twice more, and then comes, spilling deep inside his body. He’s the only one of Tony’s clients that he lets fuck him without a condom and it’s entirely because he thinks he might actually _die_ if he couldn’t have this feeling of Bucky filling him. And maybe that’s melodramatic but Tony’s never been accused of being stoic.

“Arms up, kitten,” Bucky pants into his hair, pressing little, urgent kisses against his damp curls. They’re both sweat-soaked, definitely going to need a bath or at least a washcloth, but when Tony wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, he’s carried not to the bathroom but to the bed where Bucky sets him down gently before sliding out of him.

Tony watches through half-closed eyes as Bucky walks naked as the day he was born back through the suite and into the bathroom, emerging clean and with a washcloth for Tony. He’s wiped down and rolled onto his side for Bucky to cuddle up behind.

Bucky pets his rim gently, soothingly. “May I?” he asks quietly.

He knows what Bucky is asking. They’ve done it before and always it brings a little thrill to Tony’s mind. He nods sleepily and waits until Bucky’s cock has slid back into its place inside him. Sometimes, he thinks that Bucky’s cock fits so well inside his hole that he must have carved out a permanent place for himself. _Oh sure_ , he tells himself with a little snort, _because that’s romantic_.

Bucky’s arm wraps around his waist to pull him even tighter into his body, his nose burrowing into Tony’s throat. Tony reaches down to link his fingers through Bucky’s, humming contentedly.

“Tell me about your day?” he asks quietly.

Bucky presses a swift kiss to his nape and then starts to tell him about the worst speaker he’s ever heard at one of these things. It sounds funny but Tony’s exhausted and since he knows that Bucky doesn’t mind if he dozes, he drifts off to sleep, lulled by the sound of Bucky’s voice.


End file.
